


hands up

by baecobz



Series: in every universe [4]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Bank Robbery, Exes, Getting Back Together, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Reminiscing, Reunions, Texting, UH HINTS OF PPL DYING, aka its mentioned tht ppl have died!! theyre not even named tho, i have no idea how banks work, i.... rlly dont know how to tag this, ie: mark says "fuck" a bunch, lapslock, lots of swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-23
Updated: 2018-05-23
Packaged: 2019-05-10 10:01:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14734854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baecobz/pseuds/baecobz
Summary: mark hasn't thought about yukhei in years, but all of that comes crumbling when yukhei shows back up in town with a duffel bag and a promise of a plan b.





	hands up

**Author's Note:**

> as with the rest of the fics in this series, i havent proofread it SO if u see any mistakes/smthn doesnt make sense please please please point it out 2 me!! (nicely tho bc im sensitive)  
> anyways!! yes i rlly hope u enjoy this!!!! :'O

mark’s day goes like this: he wakes up around six to get ready and pretend that his usual routine isn’t wearing him down more and more as the weeks pass by.

he makes himself a cup of coffee- black, because it wakes him up and discourages from drinking so much caffeine- and tugs one of the many blue or similarly colored collared shirts. if he’s feeling extra fancy, maybe he adds on a tie or combs through his hair, but like most days, he ends up leaving it alone.

thanks to four long years of college (three and a half, really, thanks to all of those summer courses), mark had ended up with a degree in finances and business and enough hope to carry him through his first few dozen job interviews.

but the job market is competitive at the very least, if not bordering on brutal, and the quiet, unspoken dreams mark had of opening his own business quickly found themselves tucked away at the bottom of cardboard boxes in a shitty apartment that mark can barely afford.

he knows his parents would help if he really asked them, but after so many years of taking, he figures it’s the least he can do to leave them out of the whole ordeal. it’s his problem, after all- if he can’t get a job, that’s on him.

it still doesn’t suck any less when he’s staring blearily out of his apartment window, watching some drunk businessman pause to vomit by his doorstep. it’s not a great part of town, but--

he has a new job now. it’s close by and lets him pay the rent (and maybe ever so slowly start to save up, too), and it’s a  _ job _ , so he’s not complaining.

even if it means he’s standing on his feet for eight hours and dealing with senior citizens who should honestly be resting at home instead of yelling at him for their own mistakes, mark takes it all in stride.

there are some things, though, that he honestly shouldn’t be expected to put up with, and those also just so happen to be the things that break the routine of his morning.

“hey,” the asshole in the ski mask grins at him, waving their gun in the air, “are you gonna get me some cash, or are you just going to keep daydreaming?”

“i’m working on it.” mark mumbles. he rubs a tired hand over his eyes and sighs, fighting back against the too-familiar beginnings of a headache. “how much did you say you wanted?”

“uh, i don’t know, a lot?” the robber shifts around, and mark can hear some of the other people- hostages, he reminds himself- whimpering at the movement. “can you  _ please _ just hurry up?”

“you do realize that you’re asking me to help you escape from the cops, right?” mark sighs, leaning back as his computer starts to process his incessant tapping. “but i’m trying. i don’t want anyone hurt, so just give me a second.”

“i’m not--” the robber lets out a tiny, frustrated groan, and mark belatedly wonders why  _ they _ are one who’s frustrated when mark’s the one being held at gunpoint at a job he hates. “i’m not going to hurt anyone, okay? i just need leverage.”

“of course, sounds trustworthy.” mark bites back. “i’ll be sure to believe whatever you say.”

“fuck off,” they tap their gun against the counter in some sort of nervous tick, but all it does is serve to make mark’s skin crawl. “what’s taking so long, anyways?”

“the processing system here sucks,” mark waves a hand around the hunk of a computer before him, wincing when the fan starts to whir loudly, “management refuses to upgrade, so this might be awhile.”

“ _ ugh _ . don’t you have like, cash anywhere? can’t you just give me that?”

“i do, but it’s not much. you came here in the morning, dude. most of the other stuff was locked up last night, so i only have the deposits of a couple people. and believe me, it’s not much.” mark looks away from the monitor to give the robber his typical  _ i’m really tired but i’m stuck interacting with people like you every day so please have a little mercy on me _ smile. “do you want that?”

“uh, sure.” the stranger hastily pulls their duffel bag onto the counter, scrambling to unzipper it as mark slides a few wads of bills over. they shoot mark a grateful smile, and there’s something so stupidly  _ polite _ about it that makes mark feel uneasy. most of the regular customers don’t mumble  _ thank you _ under their breath, but here this stranger is, offering his tentative gratitude as he sets his gun down beside his bag.

it’d probably be a good choice to reach for it, try and grab it and at least knock it away, but.

for some absolutely stupid reason, mark finds himself trusting the robber across from him more than most of the customers he normally deals with on a daily basis.

the stranger seems to see mark’s hesitance, fingers clearly itching to grab the gun or his phone or  _ something _ , if only for the sake of having something in his hand to hold onto. they sigh, reluctant, but nudge the gun towards mark’s side of the counter.

“i promise, i’m not going to hurt anyone. i just need the cops to think i will, okay?”

“you’re making a lot of promises i don’t think you can keep.” mark says quietly.

“mark--”

“you know me?” mark blinks, and there’s something about this new revelation that sits uncomfortably against his skin. he’s not wearing his name tag, since it broke shortly after he started working and he found out that it’s not even required, so he knows that there’s no outward indication of his name. he can’t remember having ever met the stranger before, but maybe it’s just the mask messing with him? but his voice is unfamiliar enough that he knows it’s not someone he knows well, at least, and--

“uh, funny story.” the stranger offers a wobbly grin before very, very slowly tugging the ski mask off, and. yukhei blinks back at him, hair messy and untamed after being kept under the mask, and mark’s jaw drops. “how’ve you been?”

“ _ oh my god _ ,” mark whispers. it’s not every day your old high school sweetheart comes to rob the bank you work at, but sometimes he understands how small and peculiar this town really is. he swears he’d seen reports of one of his old classmates being a clown teacher or something, anyways, so this honestly isn’t much weirder than that. “cas, what the hell?”

“you look good.” yukhei offers. mark can tell he’s uncomfortable with the fact that their lives led them here, to this awkward moment of memories and regrets, but mark is uncomfortable being involved in a robbery, so.

“what’s going on? what  _ happened _ to you? i thought you were studying law at emory, man.” he leans back, rocking on his heels, head spinning. as old as the few other customers are, he’s sure none of them have a good enough memory to recognize the boy standing across from him in all of his tall, well-toned glory.

“i was, but people are shit, you know? and if college tuition is bad, law school’s only worse. things escalated, and, well,” yukhei shrugs it off, but mark can still identify the guilt in the other’s movements, “here i am.”

“wow.” mark says quietly, because honestly? this whole encounter sits so close to unbelievable that its ridiculousness has his headache crawling back ever so slowly.

“what about you, though? what happened to that business you were going to start?”

mark wrings his hands, tired, because he’d explained it and brushed it off to so many people so many times, but it’s harder when it’s with yukhei. because they’re here, at this stupid moment when they should be talking at a reunion instead, maybe catching up over a cup of coffee instead of recognizing their own desperation in each other’s eyes. and it’s  _ yukhei _ . the same yukhei he had quietly admitted to that he wanted to move into the city and start something big, the same yukhei he had felt so safe next to, the same yukhei who had listened to his dreams and told his own and been the only one brave enough to let mark go so they could each follow them.

it was pointless, mark understands now, because both of them have long past given up and settled into lives far from what they had imagined. if anything, they lost both their dreams and each other in the ultimate defeat.

mark figures they would’ve broken up eventually, anyways, but he still wishes they had more time. even now, like this, he wishes they had hours to spare.

he’s lucky they have enough time for this, though. time to talk and understand and not have sirens outside urging on the end of this brief moment, the only significant happening in mark’s life for what feels like years.

(if he’s being honest with himself, the last time he probably felt like he was doing something important with his life was when he was with yukhei. but mark’s nothing if not dishonest to himself, so he tucks the thought away and pretends he’s content with his life as it is now.)

the thing about a small town with such a predominant elderly demographic is this- most of them don’t carry cell phones, and the ones that do typically don’t know how to use it fast enough to make an emergency call without being caught.

that means that thirty minutes in, after yukhei had literally duct taped over the emergency button sitting under mark’s desk, there’s literally nothing they can do to call for help.

they could yell, maybe, but that’d be banking on the idea that yukhei won’t be forced to shoot one of them to shut them up.

mark doubts it, but some tiny part in the pit of his stomach reminds him that this isn’t the same yukhei he fell in love with. people change, after all, and mark knows yukhei’s always prioritized survival.

yukhei nudges the gun a little further towards mark, and it feels more like a peace offering than mark would care to admit.

“why do you have a gun? where did you even get this?” mark slides it closer to his side carefully, watching to see if yukhei would move to grab it back. he doesn’t, hands calm against the counter, and mark lets out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. just in case, he chances a glance to see what any of the supposed hostages were doing, if they were watching him and yukhei. unsurprisingly, most of them had fallen asleep.

(mark has never been more grateful to know that it’s yukhei here, someone he regrettably trusts not to hurt everyone.)

“it’s easier to get a gun than it should be.” yukhei mumbles, and he seems almost embarrassed at the fact that he had bought one. “the gun industry in this country is bullshit. i miss china.”

“at least america’s not as homophobic.”

“parts of it, yeah.” yukhei shrugs. “the whole world’s fucked, if you ask me. small things are progressing, but not much, and not very fast. it’s only a matter of time before we wipe each other out.”

“that’s a bit cynical. what happened to all that faith in humanity?” mark wants to add,  _ what happened to the yukhei i knew? _ but he knows that’s crossing another line too far to come back from. even hinting at their past is a touchy subject, but the computer’s glitching under his fingers and he figures he has plenty of time to spare.

(he pointedly doesn’t think about the fact that at some point, some cop’s going to pass by the glass doors and see the duffel bag and elderly citizens dozing off under the tables and come inside. it’s only a matter of time, at this point.)

“i got a few wake up calls.”

mark thinks back to the newspaper a few years ago, to the obitutaries and familiar names and the ache in his chest.

he had wanted to message yukhei then, to reach out to him and provide comfort or help or anything at all, but after yukhei changed his number and didn’t tell him, all he had was an old facebook profile to talk to. mark’s computer had barely loaded yukhei’s profile and kept deleting what he wanted to send, so he had taken it as a sign and kept quiet.

he knows now that it was pure cowardice holding him back, but he’s just as much of a coward now as he was then, and he refuses to admit how stupid he was.

“i’m sorry.” he says quietly; it’s hard enough to admit it now, but it’s even harder to let yukhei keep thinking he didn’t care. that he doesn’t care. it’s the biggest lie mark has ever heard, and he refuses to let yukhei believe it.

“it’s okay.” yukhei smiles. it’s his sad smile, the one where he’s accepted that sometimes the world batters you down and there’s nothing you can do about it. it’s mark’s least favorite smile of his, mostly because he could never do anything to wipe it away. “i’m over it, i think. so it’s not a big deal anymore.” his smile shifts into something else, something more practiced and formal, and mark decides right then that it’s his second least favorite. “life happens, right?”

“fuck life.” mark says. the computer lets out a small noise that means his request has been processed, and he shifts away from the counter to grab his keys. “come on, i’ll bring you around back.” yukhei follows silently, neither of them wanting to comment on the fact that this is a little wrong, to say the least. no amount of history between them should warrant this open familiarity and trust, but they’ve always been good at keeping quiet and pretending the rest of the world doesn’t exist.

as mark keys in the numbers from the back of his employee card, yukhei sighs. mark glances up to watch as yukhei chews at his bottom lip, hesitant. he remembers kissing him whenever he did that, back when life was easy and planned and they felt stronger than anything that the world could throw at them. mark almost leans in on pure muscle memory before he remembers that they’re older and weaker and just empty shells of who they used to be.

“what do you think would have happened,” yukhei says slowly, like he’s toying with the words even as he suggests them, “if we had gone through with plan b?”

there it is. plan b, the picture-perfect ending that they had abandoned along with each other after they graduated high school. where they go on a road trip across the country, maybe fly overseas, and say one last  _ fuck you _ to the entire world. they would get by with the help of small jobs and cheap dates, probably having a home resigned to each other instead of something proper and warm, but it was supposed to be the two of them, together, and that meant more safety than anything else.

they had ditched the plan quickly, but it’s now that mark realizes that he wasn’t the only one who had been seriously considering it. because even then, when his hopes were high and his dreams almost unstoppable, he had trusted more in yukhei than he had the entire rest of his future.

perhaps his willingness had been because of that, because of that misinformed invulnerability that mark felt with yukhei, that he had considered it so much back then.

it makes sense, if not for the fact that mark is staring at yukhei’s still-large, still-beautiful eyes and wondering if it’s too late for plan b, after all.

he’s tempted to ask, which is stupid because he has a job now (as miserable and cheap as it is), and yukhei’s out here robbing banks and making his heart do dumb flips in his chest.  _ surely _ it’s too late for them. there’s no way it couldn’t be, by this point.

“we wouldn’t be here.” is all mark says, and yukhei’s head droops. mark finishes keying in his information and stands back as the door slides open with a slow hiss.

he has to open some of the accounts individually, but he only chooses the ones that he knows are guaranteed to get paid back by the bank.

he helps yukhei stuff the cash into his bag, hoping the police will buy it later when he says he was forced to. there aren’t a lot of good cops left in the area in every sense of the term, so he figures he’s safe.

“i know a guy working the train downtown-” yukhei starts, but his voice tapers off when mark glances up at him. they both know where he’s going with this, but it doesn’t make it any easier for mark to listen to. whenever he thinks it’s too late, too hard to do something, yukhei’s always there to simplify it. after a moment, he hesitantly tacks on, “i have a lot of money now, too.” he holds up the bag and shakes it a little. mark is severely unimpressed.

“i’m not using your dirty money,” mark gives yukhei a look when the older moves to interrupt, “but. i have a little saved up. enough to travel, i think, so. i wouldn’t mind, like, carpooling or something.”

“roadtrip?”

“why not? plan b was always my favorite option.”

yukhei grins, and it’s the same stupid grin that mark had first fallen in love with, so it only makes sense that he falls in love with it all over again.

well, maybe not in love, but it’s something similar and close and warm, so he says it’s close enough.

he hears sirens in the distance, and it’s enough to cause a surge of panic to rise in his chest. he tugs at yukhei’s sleeve, helping him zip his duffel bag up with urgent hands and a careful smile.

he tugs at the pen on his pocket, uncapping it quickly and scribbling his number on the back of yukhei’s hand.

“don’t lose this.” he murmurs, and he presses a brief kiss to yukhei’s knuckles before pushing him out of the room. “take the back alley. you can reach main street if you move around the building, past the carpet cleaners.”

yukhei slings the bag over his shoulders, and mark takes a moment to hold him by the shoulders and simply  _ look _ at him. on the surface, the past few years have been good to yukhei. he’s taller, broader, and distinctly more mature than he had been when mark had seen him last. 

“are you free tomorrow?” yukhei’s hand fits so, so nicely next to mark’s own, and his heart aches at the familiarity of it-- because he’s used to holding yukhei’s hand, but they’ve both grown and changed enough that it’s not quite the same hand anymore. “we could, i don’t know, talk about plan b? or something?”

“why bother talking about it?” mark gives yukhei’s hand a final squeeze and leans away to open the door for him into the alleyway. there’s something almost crestfallen in yukhei’s expression, enough so that mark is quick to correct himself. “let’s just go for it. i mean, what’s holding us back?”

there’s a moment of silence as yukhei heistates, chewing nervously on his lip.

“i mean,” he says finally, “i guess nothing?”

“great.” mark pushes yukhei out the door, smiling even as he can hear cop cars pulling up outside the bank. he figures a passerby probably glanced by and saw something suspicious earlier, but so long as they didn’t get a good look at yukhei, he’s not sure how much he really cares. “now go. text me tomorrow, okay?”

“of course.” yukhei holds up a hand, thumb and pinky fingers out, a memory of the laughter he and mark had shared when they had very, very briefly considered starting a rock band together. it was short-lived to say the least, but had become a sort of inside joke throughout their high school years, both as friends and boyfriends.

now, as-- old friends, maybe, and mild acquaintances, mark is pleased to see that they still have that to share.

he watches from the doorway just long enough to see yukhei duck out of the alley, pulling his hoodie over his head on his way out. it’s a familiar sight, the picture of yukhei walking away, but it’s never felt as exciting as it does now.

mark only waits a moment before shutting the door, shuffling back into the front part of the building in time to wave the police officers inside.

from then on out, it’s just an awful lot of standing around and waiting while his mind drifts off to yukhei. he wonders if yukhei had made it out safely, what exactly he planned on doing with the money, how many of his habits had stayed the same since high school.

all in all, the cops spend far more time than necessary repeating statements and referencing documents that mark knows he’s not meant to understand. they have him wait at the station afterwards, and although it means that he leaves work early, it doesn’t end up making much of a difference.

he gets processed after what feels like hours, sitting in a cold metal chair as he waits for the older witnesses in front of him to give their own testimonies.

as it turns out, only one of the few “hostages” had even gotten a glimpse of yukhei’s face. she gives her statement first, gesturing with her cane as she recounts the morning’s events.

when she describes yukhei as a short, middle-aged balding man, it’s all mark can do to hold back his laughter. he doesn’t correct her, and when it’s his turn to give his statement, he just agrees with whatever she said.

when he gets home that night, later than usual after being held up at the police station for so long, he can’t even find it in himself to get a wink of sleep.

he ends up packing most of his things and leaving his landlord a voicemail to cancel his lease (thankfully their part of town is okay with last minute notices like that, because mark’s not sure what he would do otherwise), ignoring other responsibilities in favor of digging up the old photo album he and yukhei made as a joke in high school.

there are so, so many pictures in there, so many mementos and dusty recollections, and mark places it gingerly in his bag. just in case, he grabs another one, empty, and his camera.

he figures the future has plenty of chances for more memories with yukhei, so after years of wishing for it, who is he to pass that up?

it’s not long afterwards that he manages to delegate what’s important of his and what’s not, dividing them into bins that he can store somewhere, maybe mail it to a friend to hold onto, and then the things that he can either take with him or throw away.

knowing both himself and yukhei (he fights down the part of him that warms at that thought), mark packs lighter than he has on any personal trips.

in fact, all he ends up bringing are a drawstring back and an old duffel bag that he used to carry his sports equipment in during high school. he realizes, very slowly, that it’s the same bag yukhei had brought to the bank, and the same one he and yukhei had tugged over and laughed over and fought over. it seemed like everything left in his life was just there to serve another reminder for everything he had with yukhei.

his phone buzzes on his nightstand, and it’s almost embarrassing how quickly mark scrambles to reach it.

 

**(unknown number) 3.19AM**

hey its xuxi

anyways i know its late but

text me when ure ready to leave and give me ur address and i can pick u up?

or we can meet somewhere

whatevers easiest for uuuuuuu

 

mark’s cheeks warm just a little. yukhei still texts the same as he had before- in short bursts, rapid fire, all completely genuine, like thoughts straight from his head. he wills the blush away and blames it on muscle memory, but he refuses to acknowledge if it’s a bad thing before he’s tapping a response right back.

 

**(mark) 3.20AM**

lol i didnt realize how late it was, why are u still up

heres my address

(link attachment)

im ready whenever u are

 

**(xuxi!!!) 3.20AM**

MARK U SHLD BE SLEEPING

:((

ive been all jittery since i got back to my hotel

ill come pick u up around 4?

u can sleep in the car ride~~

 

**(mark) 3.20AM**

u should sleep too!

jittery from [redacted] a bank orrrrr

4 sounds good though

 

**(xuxi) 3.21AM**

jittery from seeing u again

all these years, and u still make me nervous mark lee

>:/

 

**(mark) 3.21AM**

shdjfkd

ure too much

ill see you at 4

 

**(xuxi) 3.21AM**

okayy

<3

 

**(mark) 3.21AM**

…

<3

 

somewhere between texts, mark had found himself lying down on his bed, sheets kicked aside. it really feels like he’s reverting back to how he was in high school with yukhei-- he still has these memories, these fears from the past few years stuck in the forefront of his head, but it’s like all of his old habits have come back full force.

he drops his phone on his chest, but he’s too focused on the remnants that yukhei had left in his life to think about the way it thumps against him.

he lets himself drift off, only to wake up half an hour later with his phone buzzing by his side.

 

**(xuxi) 3.59AM**

hey i’m outside so come out whenever ure ready!!

 

while mark miraculously manages to stand up somewhat quickly, all of that time is wasted when he stares at his room. it’s not completely empty, decorations still strewn haphazardly in an effort to make it seem more homely, but there’s enough of a difference there for mark to hesitate.

(his landlord will probably throw it all away soon enough, but if he’s lucky, he’ll never be there to see what it looks like empty ever again.)

for a moment, he considers blocking yukhei’s number or cancelling the plan, unpacking all of his things and carrying on with his life and his job and his  _ stupid routine _ \-- and it’s then that he realizes that stopping was never an option.

he tugs on his shoes, adjusting the straps of his bags so one sits comfortably on each shoulder, and makes his way out of the apartment. his door locks automatically, so he knows that once he’s out the door, there’s no turning back. he hurries down the steps, careful to keep his movements quiet, and sees yukhei leaning against an old pickup truck, smile bright under the starlight.

this, he thinks, is what he had really dreamt of. aside from his own dreams of startup companies and high rise offices, he had always wished for images of yukhei like this, beautiful and wonderful and  _ his _ . it was a dream somehow even more impossible than his other one, yet it was the one coming true.

maybe it was stupid, but mark was almost glad that none of his business ventures had succeeded, if only it meant he would end up here, with yukhei waiting for him against the world.

“hey.” yukhei says softly, and mark dumps his bags in the backseat before tugging yukhei in by the belt loops and leaning against his shoulder. he’s missed simply enjoying the warmth, more than he had realized, and he stands there for a moment before stepping back with a shy smile.

“let’s go.” yukhei nods, still grinning, and walks around the car to get into the driver’s seat. he looks a little cramped sitting down, if mark’s being honest, and the sight of it has a chuckle pushing past his lips before he can help it. he covers his mouth quickly, worried of making any more noise above the already-loud rumble of the truck’s engine, but yukhei looks at him with a frown.

“don’t do that. i’ve missed your laugh for years, i don’t want to miss it any more.”

mark snorts, pushing at yukhei’s shoulder. he pretends not to see yukhei’s identical duffel bag in the backseat, only visible when he turns his head far enough, and keeps his eyes either on yukhei or the road.

it’s not a bad view, but mark has seen better, so he reaches for yukhei’s hand and tangles their fingers together.

when yukhei bites back a grin, other hand automatically shifting so he can drive comfortably without moving his hand from mark’s, that’s likely the best thing mark had ever seen in his entire life. he catches his tongue in his teeth to keep himself from saying anything stupid (like  _ your smile makes my heart race _ or  _ hey, i think i’m still in love with you even though i haven’t seen you in years _ ), thumb absentmindedly tracing circles against yukhei’s skin. it’s a little bit rougher than when they were just teenagers, both of their hands and hearts hardened during the time that they hadn’t had each other’s backs, but there’s still a gentleness to yukhei’s entire being that gives mark pause.

finally, in the quiet, mark says, “you know, i always thought plan b was the better option.”

yukhei giggles, in that stupid, giant way of his that makes mark’s heart race, “oh yeah?”

“yeah.” maybe he’s a little breathless and a little bit stupid for going along with this, but he’s finally with yukhei again, so really? fuck everything else.

**Author's Note:**

> ive been into a bank a total of 2 times in my life so im rlly sorry if this feels super inaccurate!!  
> BUT yes i had a lot of fun writing this?? i didnt realize how much i enjoyed hinting at past relationships until this fic so uhh yeah i hope it was written okay!!  
> if u havent seen on my [twitter](http://twitter.com/woo6in), im prob gonna have abt 14-21 fics in this series so! if u have any suggestions/concerns/etc abt markhei then feel free to send them to me there or on my [curious cat](http://curiouscat.me/6woojin)!!  
> major major thank u for reading!!!! any kudos/bookmarks/comments mean the world 2 me ahhh <33


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